It Makes No Difference
by SilverGate555
Summary: Lucette decides her old life wasn't worth fighting for, anyway.


There was nothing there but the stunned feel of disbelief as she looked upon her old doll. She was stupid and confessed everything to that thing. Personified the doll in her mind, treated it like the reincarnation of her late mother. Spoke to it like it was a diary, tenderly dressed it, yelled at any who endangered it—even firing a maid over it.

Now the doll stood before her. Real, with human proportions. Her ears stick out so slightly, her black hair silky as it cascades down her shoulders. Later, this was one of the moments that came to her most strongly, sitting on the bed years later telling the story to him.

"You need to do a deed of kindness to break the curse," Parfait had tried to explain sometime after the scene. There was some sympathy in her eyes.

"She's not capable of any act of kindness," Delora said casually. The living version of her doll—but so cruel.

Lucette liked it much more when she was a doll, certainly. When Delora was only a passive figure who reminded her of her mother, it was so much better. Lucette had somebody then, even if it was in an inanimate form. Although Lucette had sometimes thought it would have been nice to have human friends—including if her dolls were real people—she never thought it would be like this. Delora "cursed" her. A "curse" can never be good. Lucette may have known nothing about fairy tales, but she knew this much: a curse was the work of an evil force.

And Delora turned into a real person, a real _witch_, and cast one on her.

Lucette didn't think so badly of witches before, having always been skeptical of society's beliefs. But this was too much to stand. Despite Delora's constant attempts to say, in a biting tone, that this curse was for Lucette's good, the princess saw none of this. Her father could no longer recognize her, and she was alone in the world. Delora jinxed a broom so that whenever the floor was dirty (which was all of the time) Lucette would suddenly lose control of her body, and the broom would immediately launch itself into her hands. She would broom through the dirty wood until it was spotless. Then another person would come in, and the process would begin anew. Her arms would become sore and pain her for entire days.

It was minutes after going through this ordeal one day Lucette wondered suddenly what this was worth. Nothing. A revelation came to her, intoxicating in its simplicity—

While she was a crown princess, she figured she had a horrible family. Now, Rod had came to her at the beginning of her curse, and he said that his family was happier _without her_. Lucette's chest tightened at the thought, but her reasoning continued on. Fine. _She was happier without them too_. She would have had a better life, in fact, if she could just leave this place where everyone hated and glared at her and where Delora taunted her. Perhaps her act of kindness was to admit her family bond was permanently severed and _leave them alone_. It would be better for everyone. It would be the most selfless thing she'd ever done.

There were three of them: Rod, his damn sister and mother. If they didn't deserve her harsh treatment, they would now feel the benefits of a Lucette-less world, which, according to Delora was probably a good dead anyway. So maybe these were the three good deeds she had to fulfill: leaving all of them.

She felt almost giddy at the thought. At this point, she didn't care about anything anymore. She no longer gave any attention to the fact she was crowned princess—nobody seemed to like her for it, anyway. There was no point in trudging forward with this already damaged image. As for leaving this inn, that was going to take a piece of work, but she thought she could figure it out. She had walked around the town, carrying packages for Karma. There were plenty of jobs available, and surely one of them had to be open for her to work part-time. Parfait and Delora were too busy to figure out what she was doing every hour of every day, so during her breaks, Lucette figured she could just leave and make money elsewhere. When she saved up enough, she'll go ahead and leave this shithole.

Delora could say all she wants, but Lucette personally didn't think she was a "heartless" person. She was firm, yes, but also straightforward. When she was unhappy, she never put up fake smiles. She rarely hid her emotions. Was this considered "heartless" now? She never went out of her way to make someone's life miserable. She only wanted to carry on her own path, and let others do the same. It was just when others intruded on her path that her tongue lashed.

She thought she needed a world without limits, a place where she can be completely free. Forget about her father, and all he had done. Forget about her dolls, since they have already showed the capability to betray her. It was just as her mother warned, in fact. Her mother said that she was all she needed, but she was gone, and there was nothing to do with it besides let it wash over her the way her father's apparent distaste had all those years. Her mother gave her a doll that would later turn on her anyway, so maybe even her mother must be kept in reserve.

Poverty didn't suit Lucette, but her ambition wasn't absent, and she did feel the hunger of working through the ranks; gaining a better life seemed not terribly hard at that instant. At least she could live a life outside of this society around her. Lucette had a steady mind, a knowledge of practicalities. Perhaps it would help. Eventually, she knew she would find riches again. She was born a royal, and these things must be destiny.

But there was one thing she learned well from this incident: never trust anyone or anything again. Not even a doll.

* * *

_"Sometimes the people we trust are the most deceitful."_

Her mother must have meant herself too. She did. She must have. Her mother was perfect.

How could she give her daughter a doll with the spirit of a witch? These were real questions. Where did she get that Delora doll? Was she so innocent she didn't know about it? That made no sense.

Lucette dried her hands on a towel, cracked as her hands were from constantly washing dishes. This work in the kitchen was below her, but it was making some money at least. She stared at the redness of her fingers, and while her throat tightened, there was a sense of resignation about it as well. She'd sort of got used to having this double identity. Back at the place, whenever she was given a few days of break out of fairness, she headed to this diner, where she had obtained a very faithful part-time job. It was a large annoyance, but she was earning money at a sizable rate between here and the bookstore she also spent some time on. She figured she would have to wait several months to relocate entirely, but until then, she was doing something all right.

Lucette realized it was almost eight in the evening as she took a glance at the clock on the back wall. Her shift officially ended at eight, so she felt herself relax at the pleasing thought. She'll be able to head back to her room and rest in her bed soon, exhausted as she was.

At first, she was constantly worried about the others noticing her regular absences, but they hadn't mentioned it yet. She always managed to spend enough time with them to not get them suspicious, and so far, it appeared her plan was working. She took Parfait's orders wordlessly (though obviously sullen) and she even made some remarks during conversations that could garner some laughs.

Lucette got herself cleaned up and left the kitchen, giving brief nods to her fellow coworkers as she passed. They responded in like, at this point accustomed to her apathetic nature. It was her way of showing love, they liked to joke. On the way back, she bought an apple from a street vendor and bit into it, gingerly. She usually avoided buying too many treats, but sometimes, on days like this when the exhaustion _really_ hit her, she allowed herself these small graces.

"Hello, Lucette."

Her eyes widened. She wasn't expecting to see Waltz in front of her. She personally didn't find as threatening as the others with his childlike form, but it was still a shock.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

Waltz, used to her frankness, didn't look daunted. "I was just getting some new clothes. What were you doing?"

"Just getting a snack," Lucette said hastily.

Waltz nodded. "Do you want to head back together?"

"I've got nothing else to do."

They walked back, and while Lucette was at first tense, she gradually calmed. She continued nibbling on the apple, giving sparse remarks to Waltz's occasional comments. He laughed at her jokes, looking as though he enjoyed speaking with her. The feeling of talking to another person like this felt warm and somewhat acceptable, but she couldn't stop bringing to mind how temporary all of this was according to her plan.

* * *

Her mother couldn't have been perfect. She was deluded and didn't know anything.

Lucette's face flushed with shame at the thoughts, but she felt like they were true. Of late, Lucette had felt embarrassed of herself. Humiliated at being so emotionally inept, when everyone else could navigate this world in peace. Could she blame it on her mother, who gave her a broken operating system to work with from the beginning?

Getting a job was a piece of work. Keeping it was another thing. At this point, Lucette was forced to exchange fake smiles as a matter of customer service, talking in a falsely nice voice with others as though she meant it. Usually she would never have done this, but led by desperation, she was willing to do about anything to gain some honest cash. It was exhausting, and she quickly realized that her response to these tasks were different than other people...

These were troubling thoughts. Lucette wondered and lingered on these questions, until there was no more use. She shied away from conversations among coworkers, until she realized they were promoted over her. The idea of lacking cold, hard cash because of her now evident defects caused her to internally bristle.

* * *

It's been almost a year and a half.

There's been no change in the necklace. Delora has almost completely lost hope in her. She was now some sort of maid, and that was it. She dusted off the wooden floors, and others came and went. Lucette's curse seemed unbreakable.

"I'm surprised you're not more forceful about this," Delora contemplated one day, standing by the counter while Lucette mopped the floor. "Maybe this is improvement?"

Lucette said nothing.

There were thousands of coins in her bag upstairs. She intended to use every bit of it.

She already bought a ticket to a neighboring kingdom accessible by boat. Everything was starting to look up. She now had enough spare currency to make proper plans on such parts as clothing and lodgings beyond a simple hotel. Lucette barely spent time at Parfait's inn anymore, having throughly calculated every part of every hour to spend at her work. The work had paid off, and she had been promoted several times at this point. It was so close. Only a few months later, and then she'll be able to leave. Her heart lifted at the thought.

When the moment arrived, Lucette found herself ready. She was tired of everything at that point. She brought together her few belongings and settled them into her suitcase. There was a twinge of regret as she zipped up her suitcases. She tried to keep that emotion out of her mind—it was useless, and so unneeded for this task that she had to undergo.

Yes, because didn't she _have_ to undergo this? She'd made money on her own and developed more independence. She'd worked so hard for this moment, it would be nonsensical for her to do nothing. She got up from the cold floor near her bed, her body chilled. With a feeling of resignation, Lucette left the room she'd occupied for so long. She'd made the bed and cleaned the furniture, making it look as though she was never there at all. That would be a small mercy for the already overtaxed Parfait.

Lucette told herself to not feel bad about what she was doing, not even as she passed by the rooms of her fellow residents, those people that she had been cultivating friendships with. Her grip on her suitcase tightened as she walked by, and as she drifted down the stairs in the dark, each thump of her suitcase against the steps echoed in her mind. Each creak from the staircase pained her ears. She was paranoid that one of them would find her. She knew that Karma sometimes stayed out late outside with the others, and that at any given night, there was a chance that at least one person would be out and about. But she saw nobody on that last lonely trip down the staircase.

She wondered what they must think tomorrow when they couldn't find her, then told herself to not think like that. Maybe they didn't like her anyway—not the way that she found herself cherishing them and the conversations they've had together for many months. She bit her thumb at the thought, then let go, telling herself not to give heed of the unnecessary thought.

* * *

_Seven Years Later_

They found her body in the moonlight. She was recognizable even then, her hair still in that sweeping braid style she put into a messy ponytail. The slash on her chest continued to bleed a bright scarlet red. Jurien looked at the former princess in shock. It wasn't just the nature of the injuries, or how she was able to recognize her at even a second's glance and how Karma was able to as well. They had found her on the street, alone and bleeding and unconscious, slowly dying. It had been seven years since Jurien had last seen Lucette, when she escaped quietly in the dark and never came back.

Delora went absolutely nuts. She searched for Lucette everywhere, along with Parfait. They never found her. Apparently Lucette could be elusive when she wanted to.

Jurien's eyes drifted to the clothes Lucette was wearing. They were of a fine, rich quality. She couldn't help but wonder where the years had taken Lucette, and although she half-feared all those years that Lucette would be found dead in the gutters, she didn't expected it like this. Briefly, as she heard Karma's heavy breathing beside her, Jurien reflected on where Lucette must have been, what she did. Maybe she did some good elsewhere. Everybody always talked about how rude Lucette was, but Jurien personally thought that while Lucette was painfully insensitive at times, she didn't relish in doing wrong or anything like that. The knights have had their fun moments with her—a thousand years ago, it seems.

Jurien leaned forward and gently closed Lucette's eyes. The bleeding from her chest had stopped, and her heart lost the fight to live. Breathlessly, Jurien and Karma stayed in the darkened street with her. It was impossible to find out who killed her. Maybe it was a thief, their eyes set on her fancy clothing. But Lucette must have went to a foreign place for a long time, because when the entire kingdom remembered her again, nobody could find her anywhere.

It didn't matter how many orders her father gave.


End file.
